


Stockholm Syndrome

by marilynsullivan



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abusive Parents, Breaking and Entering, Gangs, Helped escape, Kidnapping, M/M, Police corruption, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marilynsullivan/pseuds/marilynsullivan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roderich Edelstein, a pianist born to aristocratic parents and an aristocrat himself, is taken by the gang Abandoned Death for ransom. One of the members is Gilbert Beilschmidt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing with my life but I have a lot of ideas for fanfiction.

_Prologue_

**_ The Morning Teller  _ ** _10 December 2015_

 

** Popular Pianist Kidnapped by Gang for Ransom **

_By Kelly Bersey_

An Austrian pianist by the name of Roderich Edelstein has been captured by a group that calls themselves “Abandoned Death” sometime last night. The young musician seemed to have completely disappeared off the face of the earth, but the gang left a message to Edelstein’s parents early this morning. It had been a missing person case, but the note they left outside their house claimed the kidnapping to have been done by the gang. They are asking for a hundred million euros by the New Year, ‘or else’. The location the money needs to be left in is not available for the public. 

The police are still investigating this case. They are trying to find any gang members, but like the pianist, they seem to have completely disappeared. Edelstein’s worried mother tells us: “My poor darling must be so scared right now, and so am I. These horrid barbarians will rot in hell, I tell you! When I get my son back I hope they spend the rest of their lives in jail, they better not have touched a hair on him!”

The mother obviously has a reason to be worried. The father of the young man did not want to be quoted, but wants us to let our readers know that if you have any information you should immediately call the police or 032842940.

This gang has made trouble for the police for the past few months, but they haven't kidnapped someone up until now. Authorities are warning everyone to stay indoors, especially at night, or with a large group of people. 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it is boring... it'll start picking up by next chapter, promise! (I'll upload said chapter in a few days.)

_Chapter 1_

 

Roderich had been grabbed from the street and thrown into van at around 10PM of December 9, 2015.

 Now, in the late night of December 10, he was sitting down in the corner of an empty basement. _Why had this happened to him, of all people?_ He was already starting to lose track of time. There were no windows, and his only source of light was a flickering light bulb above him. The room had ugly, dirty walls that could have once been beige, and the floor was filled with dust and scattering rodents. There was also a pretty big spider not too far from him, but Roderich had decided to ignore that. He hung his head above his knees, which he had hugged as close to his body as he could, taking up as little space as he possibly could. He was exhausted, hungry and thirsty. _Were they ever going to give him any food?_ If they did, he wasn’t sure that he would take it. _What if they poisoned it?_

No, that was silly; he knew what they wanted. _Money_. This wasn’t the first time a gang had come after him looking for him. They all knew his parents were bloody rich and that the attention would make them more feared by other groups in town. 

But, surprisingly, none of those attempts had been successful for very long. The police always found him days later, his mom would always shake his head and tell him to be more careful, and he would realize that she didn’t give a shit about him but about the money that he was worth. And for a little bit Roderich wondered whether or not his mother would give the criminals the money in the end. But that was absurd, right? The police would find him soon enough.

Right?

 And if they didn’t?

 The thing about his parents was that they were always very materialistic. It was always about money, always about their name. Once they found out Roderich’s love for the piano came with amazing talent at age thirteen, they did everything they could to gain money from it. Ten years later, they were still using him for their own liking. And though he was old enough to make his own adult decisions, they practically controlled him. _Who are you dating?_ (that pretty girl over there that knows how to sing- cha-ching!) _What do you do every day?_ (practice, practice, practice, with the occasional walk) _What are your hobbies?_ (playing the piano. Being mature and elegant).

 Though they had so many riches, they didn’t like to spend it. Ever. Roderich guesses that’s where he got the whole “let’s go for the cheapest one!” thing. But for them, it was with everything. Roderich was almost completely sure that they wouldn’t waste money on him.

 After what seemed like an eternity alone in the disgusting basement, Roderich heard several locks unlock upstairs. Then heavy footsteps were heard coming down, and one of his captors appeared. He looked strong, and was maybe an inch or two taller than Roderich. He wore a blue mask that over his head and wore tight-fit black clothes. The only parts of his face that Roderich could see were his eyes. _Were they_ red _?_ Roderich shook his head a bit, obviously hallucinating. Or maybe they were contacts.

 "Hey, Specs,” the man spoke. He had a thick German accent that Roderich recognized from the night before. “I figured you must be hungry.” He then lifted up a small bag with a large yellow “M” on the side. “’S all we have for now.”

 “I wont take such a horrible excuse for food from you, barbarian.” Roderich narrowed his eyes.

 “Okay then. You can starve, for all I care, as long as I get my money.” The man paused for a second, looking a the pianist, before turning around to walk back up the stairs. He walked slowly, waiting for what he knew would come.

 “Wait!” Roderich mumbled. “I… I think I might need to eat a little.”

 The man turned around, a smile hidden under his mask. “I know, princess. Here-“ he threw the McDonald’s bag at the smaller man on the floor. “It had water inside, an order of twenty Chicken McNuggets and fries. Enjoy.”

 Roderich waited for the man to leave, but he did no such thing.

 “Aren’t you going to thank me?” Red-eyes spoke again, tilting his head to the side.

“You take me away from my home and try to get money from my parents and you expect me to _thank_ you?”

Red-eyes laughed. “How do you know we want money?”

“Don’t you think this has happened before?” Roderich stuffed a french fry into his mouth. _Oh God, this tastes so good!_

“Wow. You’re not acting like I’d expect a victim to act.”

“Yeah, well,” Roderich ate another fry. “I guess I’m just tired of this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, if your parents give us the money soon you wont be here for much longer. Well, not with us. You wont be here for long anyway. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“What? Where?” Roderich looked up at his captor worriedly. It would be a lot harder for the police to find him if he’s in a different city, let alone country.

“You’ll see, princess. But eat up and sleep well, cuz it might be a long trip.”

With that the man left, leaving Roderich with a McDonald’s bag and the fear of never being found.

 

-

 

The next morning- at least what Roderich _thought_ was morning- Red-eyes woke him up.

 “Now, Specs,” he whispered. “You better not put up a fight right now or you’ll never see the light of day again, got it?”

Roderich nodded silently. Red-eyes turned him around and tied his hands together with a brown rope that stung the pianist’s wrists.

Red-eyes held up a long, white piece of fabric. “Open wide.”

“No way! I will never put that thing inside my mou-“

Before Roderich could finish, the fabric was around his head and inside his mouth. It tasted horrible. The young man was sure that this had probably used to wipe the floor at some point.

 The last thing that Red-eyes did was slip Roderich’s glasses off and blindfold him. “Gut. Now, I’ll lead you upstairs.”

And he did.

By the time they made it to the top Roderich felt dizzy. He didn’t like not being able to see where he was going- it wasn’t something he was used to and definitely not something he _wanted_ to get used to. The floor upstairs was colder, and felt smoother underneath his bare feet. _Why was he barefoot again?_ Red-eyes held him tightly and close to him. “Okay, guys. Now what?”

A gruff voice with an Italian accent answered.“Idiota, don’t you remember what we went through last night? We get him in the van. You and frenchie there stay in the back with him and me and Tony’ll stay in the front. The Dutch one will take the lead with his brother and your brother. We’ll make it to Italy untouched. Got it?” _Italy?!_

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry boss.”

 “So move, you bastards! Into the van!”

 Roderich felt people move around him quickly. “’Kay Specs, let’s go!” Red-eyes said as he made him move yet again. He sat in the back of a van with the same man and someone who smelt distinctly like cheese.

“So he’s the one that’s supposed to make us rich, huh?” Cheese boy, a man with a French accent, grabbed Roderich’s chin and twisted it unnaturally to face him and chuckled. “From what I saw that night, he could make us rich in other ways.”

“Oh my god.” Red-eyes sounded disgusted, to Roderich’s relief.

“Well, he isn’t ugly, mon ami."

“No, but I’d never do something like that to someone. You know that.”

“I’m not saying I’d want to make money off him like that. You know _I’m_ not like that. But if it comes to it, it comes to it.”

“Just shut up and do your job.”

 

-

 

Cheese boy and Red-eyes had spent the rest of the car-ride in silence, and Roderich slept. When he woke up he knew he wasn’t in the van anymore. And as he opened his eyes and realized he could actually _see_ (his glasses were back on and everything) he realized he was back in some dusty old basement.

“So you’re awake.”

The sudden noise startled him and he quickly turned around. “You’re probably about to pee yourself now. The bathrooms right there, but I’ll have to go with you to make sure you don’t escape.

Roderich sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was have the masked man go to the bathroom with him, but what choice did he have? He nodded and walked to the bathroom, not wanting to look around too much. Who knew what creepy creatures could be crawling around this place?

“So we’re in Italy.” He said as he got to the bathroom. It was grey, but the paint seemed to be scraping off.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to turn around?” the musician raised an eyebrow and Red-eyes sighed, obliging. “Are your eyes really red?”

“Yep.” 

“That’s a bit weird.”

“Yours are _purple_ , like what the fuck?!”

Roderich didn’t answer as he unzipped his pants. There was a heavy silence for a few seconds.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this,” Red-eyes spoke after the toilet flushed. “But we’re going to go to a bunch of places. Destination is Stockholm.”

“Why there?”

“Boss’ orders”

Roderich looked straight at those red eyes before shaking his head. “So everything he says, you do? No freedom whatsoever?”

“I get about as much freedom as you do in your little aristocrat world.” Red-eyes responded as they made their way out of the bathroom.

“You don’t know anything about me!” Roderich barked, crossing his arms.

“I know more about you than you know,” Red-eyes chuckled. “You think we just pick random people off the street?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Roderich huffed. “and if you did know so much about me you’d know you weren’t getting that payment.”

“You better start praying they do, princess. Cuz if they don’t, it wont be so good for you.”

Roderich looked back at those eyes, the panic clear in his violet ones. The other man sighed, shaking his head softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Roderich. I hope you know that. But I need the money. More than you’ve ever needed anything in your life. So do the others. And if they don’t get it soon, they’ll go to more extreme measures.”

“Oh,” Roderich looked down. _I’m practically dead._

For the first time in a while, Roderich feared that the police _wouldn’t_ find him. But he hoped with all his heart that they would, because he knew his parents would never give the money. _Ever._


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really getting into this story so I think I'll update tomorrow :)
> 
> I hope I finish this story before summer ends because when school starts I'm not sure how much I'll be able to write....
> 
> Please forgive me for any mistakes I make sorryyyyyy

_Chapter 2_

**_ The Morning Teller   _ ** _13 December 2015_

**Police Believe the Gang that Captured Roderich Edelstein, Son of Annalise Edelstein and Popular Pianist, is still in the City**

_By Kelly Bersey_

The police believe they have found evidence leading them to the pianist Roderich Edelstein, who was kidnapped by the gang “Abandoned Death”. The gang wants his mother, Annelise Edelstein, the head of several different companies such as VCD and Evergreen Press and his father to give them a one hundred million euros by the New Year.

The mother says that she is confident the police will find her son before she needs to “waste any more money”. And, if the police didindeed find evidence, that might be very soon.

 

-

 

Roderich lost track of time in Italy. He spent most of his time sitting in the same corner of the basement, staring into Red-eyes’ eyes and occasionally eating or going to the bathroom. The man had explained to Roderich that he was ordered to stay with him to make sure he didn’t escape. 

“Tell me,” Red-eyes began. “Are all hostages like this? Do they all just sit quietly, comply and occasionally criticize?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Roderich glared. “I’ve never _kidnapped_ someone before.”

 There was silence for a few moments before Red-eyes raised his voice a bit. “Look, rich kid, not everyone is as lucky as you, got it? Not everyone has a mommy with lots of money and a daddy that drives him to live their dream at concerts. Not everyone has everything they need right there in front of them, and everything they want at the snap of a finger. These people here are people that have had it rough. Me and my little brother? We haven’t had any idea of where our parents went since we were ten. You think we _wanted_ to take you? You think I wanted my little brother to go through this risk? You think I _wanted_ to hurt someone?”

 Roderich raised an eyebrow. “That makes it okay to kidnap someone?”

 Red-yes sighed. “I’m seriously sorry this had to happen to you. But we seriously need the money, you don’t understand! I don’t want to hurt you. I’m trying to be as gentle with you as possible. But you- just _shut up,_ okay?”

 “You asked why I’m so calm when I’ve been taken away from everything I know,” Roderich said, his voice strained. “Well, being here is just like being at home. Trade the basement for the music room and you guys for my parents and we’re set.”

 “You can’t seriously think that that compared to living in the streets since you were-“

 “I never said it did.” Roderich looked away, putting all his attention on the wall. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”

 Red-eyes tilted his head- he looked pretty creepy with the mask on, honestly. “Are you like that girl from the titanic? Rose or something?”

 “I beg you pardon?” Roderich was baffled at how a man who was so emotional a few seconds ago could go back to normal. Or, well, what Roderich thought was normal.

 “You haven’t watched the Titatic movie?”

 “I can’t say I have, no.”

 “Oh my god, you really are a priss. But for someone with that much money, you haven’t watched that movie? It’s a classic, dude!”

 “I’ve heard of it.”

 Red-eyes rolled his eyes and let out a laugh. “Okay, so there’s this girl, Rose, who has a rich family that hangs out with rich friends, right? So she basically has everything she could ask for, she’s even engaged to this rich guy, but she’s really sad and she is about to kill herself when Jack, this guy who won the tickets to board the Titanic, basically saves her and they fall in love and shit.”

 “So you’re saying I’m like… Rose, is it?”

 “From what I’ve seen so far.”

 Roderich nodded slowly, as if processing things. “Tell me about Jack.”

 “Jack. Well, he was born in Wisconsin but his parents died in a fire when he was only fifteen. He was basically on his own and travelled the world, and he made this Italian friend and they sort of went around together I guess. Then he won in a lucky game of poker and got tickets for the Titanic, but they were third class tickets so it wasn’t like he was in Rose’s league at all. It’s pretty cute, actually. He draws her naked.”

 “Oh?”

 “Yep.”

 “That’s- that’s a bit crude.”

“Nah. She’s all like ‘draw me like one of your French girls’, cuz he drew a bunch of French girls when he was in France, like prostitutes too, and then she’s like ‘wearing only this’ and she has this really expensive diamond necklace that is really important to the storyline.”

 “It doesn’t make it any less crude.”

 “Whatever. It’s a cute movie. Until Jack dies. But he sorta dies protecting her so that’s nice.”

 “…oh.”

 “Damn, did I spoil it for you?”

 “No, no. I always knew Jack died at the end. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to watch the movie, anyway. I mean, I’m _here._ ”

 “Oh.” Red-eyes was now silent again, and it was awkward. For a few minutes that felt like hours to the men, they were completely silent. Nothing was heard but a _drip_ from upstairs that happened when someone flushed the toilet more than once in the same minute and their calm breathing. They just sat there- Roderich with his now dirty clothes and Red-eyes with a Prussian blue mask above his head.

 Roderich opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. He looked at Red-eyes then looked away and opened his mouth again, this time words coming out. “I don’t even know your name. Or how you look like, at all. I mean, I know exactly why-“

 “If we give you back and you tell the police how we look and who we are we could get arrested or something, Specs.”

_If._

 “Yeah, I understand. It’s just weird to talk to you with that weird mask on. And without knowing your name.” Roderich explained. “Plus, if I did want to tell the police who you were I would just tell them to look for someone with red eyes.”

 “Yeah, well, Boss’ orders.”

 “I understand.” Roderich looked away, and they slipped into that awkward silence again.

 “You need to shower,” Red-eyes stood up, changing the topic.

 Roderich sighed and nodded. He had never gone this long without showering. He felt _disgusting._ “There’s no shower down here.”

 “That’s why you’re going upstairs. And don't talk back to the guys there, okay? They are _not_ going to take your shit.” Red-eyes stretched his hand out to Roderich.

 The violet-eyed man nodded and but ignored the gesture, standing up by himself. He let his hands be tied together silently, and walked up the stairs without making a noise. 

Red-eyes knocked on the door loudly. “We’re going up, masks on!”

 Shuffling was heard up the stairs and someone yelled back, “come up!”

 Roderich was pushed outside. He looked down, avoiding the others’ gaze and followed Red-eyes silently.

 “You want to change shifts, mon ami?” someone Roderich recognized as Cheese man spoke up, but Red-eyes shook his head and practically dragged the pianist to the bathroom. When he made sure the door was locked, he unbinded Roderich and sat down on the toilet. The shower itself didn’t have a curtain; it’s door was made of glass.

 "You’re going to stay in here for this, too?” Roderich asked, blushing at the thought of the man seeing him without his clothes on.

 “Yep.”

 “I don’t even know you and you’re going to see me naked?”

 “Just do it, Specs. I’ll close my eyes.”

 “For the whole shower?”

 “Probably not.”

 Roderich turned away from Red-eyes uncomfortably. He didn’t know what was worse: how bad he smelled or the fact that another man was going to see him without clothes on. He breathed in deeply and took his shirt off slowly, then unzipping his pants and slipping them off too, leaving them in neat piles on the floor. He then gulped as he slipped his boxers off, standing awkwardly for a few seconds before walking to the shower.

 Then something hit him.

 “Um- how do you use this shower?”

 A laugh came from behind him. “Can I open my eyes, princess?”

 “Don’t call me that. And if you must.”

 He stood in one place, freezing, as the man in the blue mask got up from behind him and turned the shower on, making it warm. “There ya go.”

 “Thank you.”

“Oh, Roderich?”

 Roderich took in a sharp breath. “Yes?”

 “So, I wont lie and say that I wasn’t looking at you. And, about that thing that you said about me seeing you naked and you not knowing me?”

 “Yes?”

 “My name’s Gilbert. Now take a shower, you stink- the bottle on the right is shampoo.”


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS IS SHORT

_Chapter 3_

 

Gilbert was not the first thing that came to Roderich’s head when he thought of ruthless kidnappers. Both men were pretty… different. And, setting aside the fact that he was technically Gilbert’s prisoner, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. When it was Gilbert’s turn to ‘guard’ Roderich, he felt more comfortable. Though this may seem odd and completely stupid, Roderich sort of enjoyed his company.

Again, setting aside the fact that he was basically a prisoner.

It was all strange to Roderich, and he didn’t like to think about it much. Gilbert was Gilbert, and it was just a peculiar fact that he felt safer with him than with the other gang members.

Of course, Gilbert needed to rest, and that meant that his shift would end.

Roderich didn’t care for the other men. They all treated him like he was an item that they would soon exchange for money. At least Gilbert would apologize for taking him from his normal life; all they would do is occasionally be exceptionally rude to him and sometimes threaten him (“you better get us some money, unless you’ll regret you were ever born.”) It wasn’t like it was up to _him_ to trade money for a person. He was just another object to trade. Gilbert was obviously on the gang’s side, but at least he treated Roderich like a person. Other men? Not so much.

“Can’t your rich mommy just pay up already so we can get your ass out of here?”

Roderich didn’t answer, playing with his hands.

“Like, I bet you guys just have money growing from your trees in your pretty personal garden with a big pool, no? She could’ve paid up by now.”

When no answer came, the man spoke again. “Does she even give a shit about you here? I mean, in the news articles it seems she could but _seriously,_ man! You better cross your fingers and wish that she pays up or else you’d wish you’d be dead.”

“What exactly would you do to me?” Roderich asked quietly. He hadn’t spoken for a really long time (since Gilbert’s shift) and was the question was making him restless.

The man laughed. There was no distinct trait that could earn him a name in Roderich’s mind other that that startling high-pitched yet rough laugh. So, in Gilbert’s mind, that was the man’s name.

“Good question, darling.” Weird-laugh took Roderich’s chin and forced him to look up at his cold eyes. “Well, for starters we could threaten to kill you or something a few days after the New Year to spice things up. Or maybe we could sell you to someone else, someone who would _really_ pay up. Or we could put you out on the streets, making you trade your body for that money and keeping it ourselves. You could be our little toy. And to think that at one point you were living in that big house in Mount Liser Avenue with good boy manners and nice little servants and your feet and that big piano of yours you’ll never get to play again.”

Roderich didn’t want to think about that. _At all._ He should have really kept his moth shut, but he truly was an Edelstein. “You really think it’s okay to do that to people? I mean, I know you need the money, but-“

“But what, rich boy? You don’t _know_ us. You don’t understand how much we need this shit. So shut your pretty little mouth or I’ll- I’ll-“

“You’ll what?”

With that the man brought Roderich to his feet and pushed him against the wall. His hands were both on Roderich’s collar, so close that he could feel Weird-laugh’s breath against him face. It smelled like he hadn’t brushed his teeth in decades.

“Look, you rich bitch! You talk to me like that again and you’ll be eating my fist, got it?” The man whispered in his ear. “Actually,” he chuckled. “How about I make you to that now, so you don’t do anything later?”

Roderich shut his eyes as pain stuck his cheekbone, and then he doubled over as he was kicked in the stomach. Weird-laugh had such a strong grip on his wrists, which were held over his head now, that Roderich was sure it would leave a mark. “Don’t.” _Ow._ “Ever.” _Ow._ “Talk to me.” _Ow._ “Like that.” _Ow._ “Again!” Roderih let out a whimper each time he was hit. One last blow was delivered to the smaller man when someone came down the stairs.

Weird-laugh turned around worriedly, dropping Roderich, before sighing in relief. “Oh, it’s only you, Gil.” He then froze, sending a worried glance at the man on the floor. “I-I mean-“

“Your shift’s over.” Gilbert said darkly, walking over to the two men. “You can leave now, you know.” He looked at Weird-laugh, who nodded before exiting the basement.

Roderich was frozen on the floor, looking at the handprints in his wrists. He felt something trickling down his face, probably blood.

“I’m sorry,” Gilbert went to the bathroom, wet a towel and came back to the pianist. “I honestly wouldn’t want this happening to you. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Roderich didn’t answer. He _had_ been kidnapped before, but nothing like that had ever happened. The last time he got beat up like that was probably back in High School, but then he had Liz, his best friend in the entire world.

“You know what’s funny?” Gilbert chuckled.

“What could possibly be funny?”

“Your glasses are perfectly fine. Like, how?”

Roderich hadn’t noticed that at all. He brought a hand to his glasses and took them off, running his hands through them. “Hm. That is interesting.

Gilbert took this chance to wipe the blood off his face. “You know, I’ve never done this to anyone before. It’s usually someone else that wipes the blood in my face off.”

“You’ve gotten battered like this?”

“Nope. I mean, sometimes the other one gets punches in but I usually win the fight.”

“The fight? Oh- yes. I forgot you were- you know-“

“Yeah, yeah.”

Gilbert was still wearing that stupid blue mask, though Roderich already knew his name and a key feature. It annoyed Roderich to no end that the man wore that thing. It made him look so, so _stupid._

“You still wear that mask, Gilbert.”

“What? Oh. Oh, what’s the use of _that_ now, huh?” Gilbert went to take it off, but then stopped. “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“What color do you think my hair is?”

“I beg you pardon?”

“Guess.”

“Um… I don’t know brown?”

Gilbert shook his masked head and laughed. “Nope!”

“Blonde?”

“I guess, sorta-“ Gilbert now took the sock off his head, revealing silver.

Roderich stared at Gilbert, tilting his head slightly. _Oh. My. God._

The other man wasn’t exactly ugly. He had a smirk on his face, one eyebrow raised. His eyes glowed, and his hair looked messy yet fitting, in a way.

It took Roderich’s breath away.

“Like what you see, Specs?”

Roderich blushed, looking down. “Shush, Gilbert.”

A familiar laugh erupted from that unfamiliar face. “It’s so weird that you didn’t even know how I look while I see you all the time.”

“Your face is… fitting.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

 

That conversation ended when a loud noise came from upstairs. “Shit! The police are here! The police- fuck!”

“Damn!” Gilbert slipped the mask back on, grabbing Roderich. “Time for Plan B.”

 

 

The weirdest part about this was that Roderich wasn’t sure whether he wanted the police to find him there or if he wanted to help Gilbert escape the law. But, not being able to think well, he let Roderich slip him out from a door he hasn’t noticed before.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to go on a plane tomorrow so idk if I'll be able to update but I'll sure as hell write!


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry it is so short. Tomorrow I'm on a plane for 21 hours, so I'll have a lot of free time to write more chapters :)

_Chapter 4_

 

 

**The Morning Teller** _16 December 2015_

**Police Looking for Missing Pianist Raid Home, Find the Musician’s Blood i but Don’t Find Anyone**

_Kelly Bersey_

 

The police are lead to Italy by several different witnesses and find the home where the gang ‘Abandoned Death’ was staying with their victim, Roderich Edelstein. When the police get there they don’t find any people but after thoroughly searching the house they find a bloody towel. The blood was later tested and was revealed to be Mr. Edelstein’s.

What horrid things could they be putting the musician through?  
Edelstein’s mother says that she is extremely worried for her son, but refuses to “gamble with criminals”, as she puts it (or to trade money for her son). She is sure that the police will find him soon and bring him back.

 

 

-

 

Roderich woke up to find himself in the trunk of a vehicle. The past events were a complete blur to him. He distinctly remembered something being smashed on his head and slowly losing consciousness as he was taken to the garage of another home, but wasn’t sure if that was a dream or not.

He tries to move at first, but all that causes is pain to shoot up his spine. With a labored breath he tries to turn around, to at least get into a more comfortable position.

A sharp turn sent Roderich forward, hitting his already hurt head against a side of the small space he was in. He let out a moan, his body aching even more.

After a half hour or so, the car slowed down. He felt doors being opening, and unrecognizable words were being uttered outside. Soon, the trunk was opened to reveal yet another man with a mask. He couldn’t really make out what it was- they were probably in a garage or something.

_How many houses do these people own?_

He was lifted up bridal style slowly, and he was too sore to do anything about it. Compared to the previous events, he was being carried quite carefully. Words were being spoken, but he couldn’t make anything out.

His head was throbbing, so he closed his eyes and made himself comfortable in whoevers arms he was in. Roderich barely felt time pass as he was placed on a mattress. For the past few days he had been sleeping on the floor, so this was a welcomed change. He drifted in and out of sleep for a long, long time, but every time he was half-awake he noticed a figure next to his bed, peering at him curiously.

When Roderich woke up completely he was beyond confused. He was on top of a yellow-ish mattress on the floor of a small room with a window that only revealed trees. The room was dark, the walls painted brown and the floor was a grey carpet. There was a coffee table near the wall, an old TV sitting on top of it. In front of the television there were some scattered decorated boxes, each with VHS tapes inside. The window was neat and rectangular, it’s frame creamy white. Beyond the trees Roderich observed the sun set slowly. Roderich yawned, wincing at his wounds, and slowly started to realize where he was. But that was the problem- the didn’t _know_ where he was. He was somewhere away from his home (bad as that home may be), away from his music, with a bunch of bruises made by people that he didn’t know. And the fact that he may never get to go back where he belonged hit him like a brick.

Before he could stop them, the tears started falling. His vision was blurred, and sobs shook his body. He didn’t love his mother. He barely even knew what was going on with his father. But he missed them, and his home, and his piano, and Liz, and _everyone and everything._ Why did this happen to _him_ out of all the people it could happen to?

He felt someone hold him from behind, pulling him closer. Roderich stifled his sobs just long enough to turn around.

There was Gilbert, mask off, laying in bed next to him. A deep frown laced his face, his red eyes sad and looking at him. “I am so, so, _so_ sorry this happened to you, Specs.”

Roderich didn’t think. He didn’t think about how this man was one of the kidnappers. He didn’t think about how this man used him to get money. Roderich hugged Gilbert back, throwing his head into his chest. Gilbert held on tightly to him, staying silent.

When Roderich finally calmed down, he realized what he was doing. And who he was doing it with.

He jumped back, an accusing glare on his face. “You-you were the one that took me away from my family! How- why would you do that?” Roderich buried his face in his hands. “I don’t even know if I’m ever going to see my mom again, and it’s all because of _you!_ ”

Gilbert sat down quietly, letting the pianist scream, and a soon as he quieted down he let him breathe for a few moments. But as soon as those free moments passed, he opened is mouth to speak. “I know.”

“You _know? You know? Y-“_

“Look, Roderich. You need to listen to me.”

“Listen to you?!”

“If you shut up for a second maybe you’ll understand.”

And Roderich became quiet.

“Look, I know how it feels like to be torn from everything you know. I…. my parents died when I was young. I have a younger brother, and together we’ve been traveling around Europe, trying to find a job. We found a few, but they weren’t really enough. Then we met this guy in Italy. His name was-is- Feliciano. He was sweet, and, well, my brother totally thought so too because you know. He said that his brother owned a business that made millions, and that he could hire us if we wanted. What Feli didn’t know, or at least didn’t tell us, was that his brother wasn’t the owner of a business. Or, well, a legal business. This isn’t a gang called ‘Abandoned Death’, Roddy. This is the mafia.”

Roderich stared at him, eyes wide.

“I wanted to say no, I did. But my little brother and I were desperate. Do you know how it feels to not be able to take care of someone that depends on you? I was still going to say no, actually. I was going to try to find something else. But my brother took the pact. And I can’t leave my brother like that, there! So I joined in too. We’ve had enough money to survive for a bit now. I have had to do horrible things for my family, Roderich. Horrible, horrible things. And sometimes I want to leave, to quit. But I-“

“But you can’t,” Roderich finished. “Barely anyone has actually left the mafia to find a better life and not been killed by the other members. They say that that pact is more important than anything else.”

Gilbert blinked a few times, surprised, but brushed it off. “Yeah. And if you know that, you probably understand why I need to do every single thing my boss says. Not only for my life, but for my brother’s.”

The whole gang thing- that’s dangerous, too, and the connections that they have can get you in trouble but ‘Abandoned Death’ was supposed to be these poor people looking for money and Roderich thought that Gilbert could have helped him.

But the mafia?

  
He was in more trouble than he thought.

 

All anger at Gilbert was slowly ebbing away.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for late update, I was on a plane for around 21 hours (Newark to Jakarta).
> 
> Pay attention to the whole Titanic thing, it's actually really important to the story.

_Chapter 5_

 

 

Time passed slowly in the little room, and Roderich spent most of it with Gilbert.

He felt dazed; he wasn’t really sure what day it was, and he could only guess the time by looking at the sky from the window. There wasn’t really much to do in the room. Sometimes he would talk to Gilbert about his family and the music he would create, how much he loved baking, and how he wasn’t sure if his mom actually cared enough about him to give her precious money away. Sometimes Gil would talk, too, about what he remembered about his parents and about his brother. Other times they would just sit, or Roderich would feel homesick and Gilbert would look at him with sad eyes.

Today it was no different.

“Roddy,” Gilbert began, walking into the room. He left most nights, and came back every morning with breakfast.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, Specs. Well, you still sorta remind me of Rose. From the Titanic, I mean.”

“Great.”

“Aaaand guess what movie we’re watching today?”

Roderich looked up at the man, who was taking his mask off and setting it on the floor next to the mattress and bringing a Dunkin’ Donuts bag to the smaller man. The pianist raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “How are we going to watch the Titanic?”

“Well, duh! There’s a T.V. right there! And I found the tape for it!” After handing the bag of food to the Austrian, Gilbert made his way to the table with the television and moved some things around. “Aha!” he exclaimed, taking a VHS tape and lifting it up. “The Titanic! Theatrical masterpiece, Specs. You’ll love it.”

Roderich didn’t know what to think. He was going to watch a romantic movie with Gilbert? Not only another man, but his captor? Well, it was better than just sitting there. Their relationship was not of the normal kind anyhow. Gilbert had already inserted the tape and turning the T.V. on and before Roderich could say anything, the movie was playing, the lights were turned off, and Gilbert sat next to him on the mattress.  
“I hope you like the croissant, by the way. Egg, ham and cheese. It’s great.”

“Gilbert,” Roderich spoke as the movie started. “Where are we? Geographically?” It was completely out of the blue, like all the other times it was asked.

“Shh, Princess! The movie’s starting!”

Though Roderich did not particularly like to be shushed, he did as he was told and paid attention to the screen. The red-eyed man always got nervous when Roderich asked about where they were, what day it was, the time, or about the news. It was odd, really.

The two men watched the beginning of the movie in silence. When Jack won the tickets to the Titanic, Gilbert sighed. “Little does he know, he’s basically dead. But at least he meets Rose.”

“Mhhm.”

The movie goes on to show how unhappy Rose is, and Roderich sighs. This truly was like him. Maybe that was the reason he hadn’t broken until he was taken to the room- maybe he was so unhappy in his own home anything else was okay.

Jack kind of reminded him of Gilbert, but he didn’t say anything. It would either make things awkward with the whole Roderich-being-Rose thing or make him gloat. Neither was good.

At some point Jack was invited to a dinner with the rich folk as a thanks for “saving Rose from going overboard” when really he had saved her from suicide. Rose’s mother didn’t particularly like him, but the other guests seemed to be amused. Roderich couldn’t help but wonder what his own mother would think of Gilbert if she met him at one of her socials. Of course, that would be in another universe where he _didn’t_ kidnap him and was _not_ part of the mafia. Honestly, the reaction would probably be the one Rose’s mother had- dry and rude.

When her mother reminds Rose that she is engaged, Roderich momentarily thinks of Elizabeta. But then he pushes it away; Liz would never treat him as horribly as that idiot treated Rose when he found out she had been hanging out with Jack.

Roderich smiled lightly as he thought about how life would be if he was Rose and someone (… Gilbert?) was his own Jack. Save for the dying part, it might be pretty nice. Gilbert noticed the man’s smile- the first one in days- and smiled himself. What a pretty sight Roderich was.

_“Draw me like one of your French girls. With this. With nothing but this.”_

Roderich blushed as he saw how forward Rose was. _This_ was the necklace that her fiancé had given her. Poor Jack was flushed but agreed, and a while later Rose was lying on the couch naked as Jack drew her.

Would Roderich ever be able to be that forward with any body?

“Isn’t she hot? Lucky Jack.”

The question came out of nowhere. Roderich hadn’t even been focused on the woman’s body. If he had been his normal self he would have turned away, but he was so into his thoughts he hadn’t thought about it much. “Uh-um y-yeah, sure.”

Gilbert snickered. “You don’t play for that team, do ya?”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Roderich turned away from the screen, face red. “Y-you can’t just assume that- I- I- I…”

“Roddy, it’s fine!”

“I have a girlfriend!” Roderich said quickly. He did not add that she was just his close friend, and that all romantic ties with them were over.

Gilbert knew this from reading _The Morning Teller._ That particular girl was very worried about him, and wouldn’t stop rambling interview after interview about how much she “missed her sweetheart” and would do “anything to save him.”

_I’m not seeing you do anything, sugar._

Gilbert frowned and turned back to watch the movie. “Oh,” was all he said.

Roderich fidgeted a bit, not being able to focus on the movie. After what seemed like forever (Rose and Jack were now having sex, and Roderich briefly wondered what it would be like to have sex with Gilbert before shushing his brain), Roderich spoke. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you gay?”

Roderich realized this was a stupid question. Why would he mention the hot girl if he was-

“I think I might be bi, but I don’t like to label myself. I like who I like.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Another awkward silence followed, and it was nearing the stressful part of the movie.

“Gilbert?”

“Yeah, Specs?”

“My girlfriend isn’t real. I mean, she’s real, but she isn’t my girlfriend. She used to be, but then I realized I wasn’t really attracted to her and she’s my best friend.” Roderich looked down at his hands, saying everything quickly. This was extremely unlike him.

“Oh.”

That was beginning to be something they said when they didn’t know what else to say.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

The two looked back at the screen. Gilbert was secretly relieved the other man was gay _and_ single, but didn’t show it. Roderich was awkwardly turning to face the man and then the screen again, but Gilbert was able to focus on the movie now that he had a chance.

 

The movie ended, the credits rolled up, and no one said a word. It was awkward once again, but Gilbert soon broke the silence.

“Jack died for the one that he loved,” it almost seemed as if he was talking to himself. “He knew he would freeze, but he needed to keep Rose out of the water. He loved her. He wanted to keep her safe, y’know? He wasn’t some coward that just let her freeze. He didn’t ask to take turns on the door thing because it would risk her dying. Risk it more. All he seemed to care about was her. Her never letting go. I wish I was brave enough to do that.”

“Maybe you are, you just have not been put in the situation yet.”

Gilbert shook his head, looking at the ground. He was frowning.

“Rose was pretty heroic too. She could have escaped and gone with her family, no matter how bad her mother and fiancé were, and could have lived happily- or not so happily- with them. But she risked her life to go after Jack. Even when it seemed impossible and he was handcuffed to the sinking ship, she truly never let go.” Roderich said thoughtfully.

“Would you be able to do that?”

“If I truly loved someone, I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself knowing I let them die. God, even if I didn’t love them. But loving them makes it more intense, I guess. The feeling.”

“Yeah.” Gilbert looked up curiously at Roderich. “Have you ever loved someone, Roderich?”

Roderich froze. What was the man talking about? “What do you mean?”

“Because,” Gilbert got so close to Roderich he could feel the warm breath against his face. “I think I might, but I just want to make sure.”

And, to Roderich’s surprise, the man leaned in and kissed him. But what surprised him the most was that he kissed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE TITANIC THING IS REALLY IMPORTANT TO THE STORY SO REMEMBER WHAT THEY SAID ABOUT THEIR CHARACTERS OKAY


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually been really busy lately and it sucks. Plus, school starts in a week and the updates will be less frequent.  
> When I started writing this I thought it would be like 8 chapters but boy was I wrong :/
> 
> So I hope you enjoy and sorry for the OOC thing :(

_Chapter 6_

_Netherlands: Abel_

_Luxembourg: Luca_

_I added this guy to punch Roddy because I didn’t want to make anyone seem too evil but we’re dealing with the mafia so it makes no sense but I’m weak:_ Jackson (CREATIVE IKR)

**The Morning Teller** _22 December 2015_

**Christmas Time Nearing, the Edelsteins Continue to Search for Kidnapped Son but Refuse to Give Money**

_Kelly Bersey_

Christmas is meant to be a time for family and friends to spend together. But the Edelsteins probably wont have that privilege, says Deputy Officer McLagher. The pianist Roderich Edelstein has been gone since the night of December 9th, and has been taken by the gang ‘Abandoned Death’ for ransom. He has been gone for approximately two weeks, and the police worry for his health after finding his blood on a towel in an old home.

After heavy investigation it turns out that home belonged to Lovino Vargas, a young man that died last year in a police chase. He was the head of a terrible group that killed many and earned thousands, if not millions, a day. Though the police say that he was killed, his body was apparently stolen before they could make it to the hospital to try to revive him. Authorities suspect the ‘Abandoned Death’ could have something to do with Mr. Vargas, since they have been staying in his old homes.

Mrs. Annelise Edelstein refuses to give the money for his son in the name of trusting the police and not wanting to feed the gangs money. Many parents argue with her decision, questioning whether she loved her son, but many others agree with her and support her. According to the gang she and the police have until January 1st, 2016 to find him/give the gang the money ‘or else’.

We can only hope that Roderich Edelstein will be home sooner rather than later.

 

Gilbert handed the newspaper back to Francis, frowning slightly. “W-well who knows, right? Maybe she’ll change her mind before the deadline, you know they do that sometimes.”

“They usually get like that after we push them a bit, you know that. We need to send them a picture, leave some ‘evidence’. That whole towel thing was perfect, except when they suspected Vargas is involved. But we need to drive that mom to tears and the police away from us.” Abel, a Dutch man, said.

“We’re in Germany and they think we’re still in Italy. Isn’t that enough?”

“We need to keep moving, Gilbert. And we need to push that mom to give us the money.”

“He’s right, you know.” Luca, Abel’s brother said calmly, flipping his light brown hair and grabbing the newspaper. His eyes skimmed through it and he frowned. “They don’t put everything on the news, you know. The police have figured out we’re working for Vargas. They don’t tell the media but they know he’s not dead as much as we do. They’ll be looking at all the homes he has near where we stayed before. We have two main things to do here that may or may not come with more steps. First, we need to get the mom scared. More scared. Take a picture or two of her precious son, cut some of his hair off and put in an envelope and then send it to her. Easy. Then we need to get the fuck outta here and go hide somewhere that isn’t the boss’ property, maybe break into someone’s unused summer house or somethin’-“

“Or since its almost Christmas find someone who’s on vacation and stay in their house for a bit, and slowly make our way to the port and we’ll be in Stockholm by 2016.” Added Antonio, one of Gilbert’s best friends.

As the other men discussed these things, Gilbert could only think of Roderich. What things would he have to go through to get them their money? He looked over at Francis, who looked back at him worriedly. Gilbert wasn’t sure if he could ever hurt Roderich again, and Francis knew it.

Gilbert thought of Jack, who had given his life up for Rose. Gilbert thought he was a coward compared to him- he wasn’t protecting Roderich, he was hurting him. He knew that he was in love with him- he had always known. But was he? Really? If he loved him, why wouldn’t he put Roderich before him? Why couldn’t he save him?

“Gil? Gilbert, man, you’re scaring me!” Jackson waved his hands in front of Gilbert, a puzzled look on his face.

“Sorry I…” Gil sighed. “I was somewhere else. Sorry.” 

“Well, get back here. We got a lot to plan.” Abel said firmly. "Okay, our goal by the twenty-seventh- if not earlier- is Frederikshavn. We ran over what the path was through Denmark, right? Then we’ll go to the port and go on one of the boats they left for us and make it to Gothenberg, in Sweden. We’ll then go straight to Herrljunga and stay there for a bit, makin’ sure we’re safe an’ no ones after us. In one day we’ll pass Falköping. pass Laxá and Hallsberg, next day Södertälje and we’ll make it to Stockholm by the 30th or the 31st, just in time. Got it? I’ll write it on the map later, and we might need to use another boat but I’ll figure that out. Now I just need to choose someone to drive each car and two people to stay with the pianist. Undertood?”

“When are we leaving?” Gilbert asked.

“Gilbert, we discussed it while you were daydreaming. We have decided to leave tomorrow to get everything ready.” Francis looked at Gilbert with that worried look again before opening his mouth to speak once more. “We… we have decided to also send the mother of Roderich a picture to scare her into giving us the money on time.”

Gilbert froze, meeting his friend’s eyes. “… Okay.”

“You know that this means we might need to… do something to him to make it look like we’re really treating him badly, non?”

_Oh no, oh no, oh no!_

“Of course he knows, he ain’t stupid. I call being the man to do so.” Jackson smiled that _stupid_ smile of his and chuckled. If there was anyone that Gilbert completely despised in this world, it was Jackson. And that stupid accent he put up for the guys to make him seem tough? Didn’t make Gil like him much more.

“Okay, okay. How about Jackson and Francis take care of that upstairs and we’ll plan everything down here?” Abel said.

“What about me? I’ve been taking care of him this whole time, I mean-“ Gilbert started, but was interrupted.

“Exactly, you’ve done enough. But maybe you and I could get us something at Dunkin’s afterwards, and Ludwig can go up there instead?” Francis proposed this while looking solely at Gilbert.

“Yeah, yeah. Go you guys, we’ll plan things here.” Luca waved everyone off and told Ludwig, Gilbert’s younger brother, to look for the map they had gotten.

Gilbert followed Francis out the door anxiously. For the first few minutes of the ride Gilbert could only think of Roderich, but Francis interrupted his thoughts.

“What is going on between you and the pianist, mon ami?”

“W-what?” Gilbert was startled. Did Francis know him _that_ well?

“I know that look when I see it, Gil. And not letting anyone have shifts anymore? Worrying over him?”

“Maybe I’m just a person, Francis. Maybe I just don’t want another human being to be hurt.”

“You have killed several humans before, or am I mistaken?”

Gilbert was quiet in his seat.

“Plus, I saw you two yesterday.”

The red-eyed man looked up at Francis, alarmed. “What?”

“You kissed for quite a long time. You should be more cautious, if the others catch you they’ll question who’s side you’re on.” The French man parked the car outside a store that read ‘ **DUNKIN’ DONUTS** ’.

Gilbert looked out the window and frowned. Francis was right. “I just… they’re hurting him, aren’t they?”

Francis frowned as well. “I’m afraid so.”

“Oh god, Francis.”

“I know, Gilbert. I’m sorry.”

“I feel horrible about it. I mean, I should be able to help him. I should be defending him right now, I’m such a coward!”

“That,” Francis opened the door to the car and placed a foot outside. “You aren’t not.”

Gilbert raised an eyebrow and followed the man into the store. “I’m letting someone I… I’m letting him get hurt. I should be there, fighting against them, telling them it’s not okay but instead I’m here, buying him and all the rest breakfast while taking him to Stockholm to practically either be sold back to his family or to whoever else would pay more for him!” It came out as a loud whisper though- if anyone heard them, they would be alarmed.

“If you do anything, you’ll be killed. And probably not in a nice way.”

“Jack died for Rose.”

“And by dying, he put Rose at risk to, no? He made her promise to ‘never let go’, but what if it was all too much? What if the cold got her, too? This is going to happen to him with or without you by his side and I think that with you _alive_ it will help him emotionally. Plus, I think you could also keep the guys from hurting him too much by taking all the shifts.”

“It just doesn’t feel right.”

“And it’ll never be right. Maybe in another life, but you can’t do much about it in this one.”

 

 

-

 

Roderich sat quietly, waiting for Gilbert to come with his breakfast at the edge of his mattress. Last night’s events were so… so _strange_ to him. It wasn’t anything too extreme, just kissing- a _lot_ – confessing, beating hearts and flushed faces. Roderich smiled one of his rare smiles and looked down at his feet. His socks weren’t actually that dirty- Gilbert had bought him new ones the other day and he felt much more comfortable sleeping with things weren’t suitable to house a cockroach.

The door unlocked and Roderich could feel his heart beating loudly. _How can this idiot get me like this?_ But when the door opened it revealed two men that were _not_ Gilbert. They weren’t wearing the strange sock-like masks anymore, but two pig masks. One man had styled blonde hair and the other one was a curly-haired brunette. Roderich stiffened- were they going to go somewhere else again? Was Gilbert not having a shift today?

“Hey, pretty boy!” the curly haired man asked, coming closer to the pianist on the mattress. _Too_ close.

“Make this quick, _please.”_ The other man, the blonde, had a thick German accent and a tired voice.

Curly-hair let out a deep, scary-sounding laugh that Roderich remembered from the time he was hit. _It’s the same guy._

Roderich turned around cautiously, but didn’t say a word. Curly hair laughed again and dragged Roderich to his feet only to push him to the ground roughly. He kicked his abdomen, causing the man to double over and let out whimpers of pain. “P-please stop, why?-!”

The man stopped kicking and dragged Roderich back up by the collar, pushing him to the wall. “Your mommy better pay us all back, honey.” He pressed himself against the violet-eyed man’s ear and chuckled. “You better cross your fingers and hope that she’ll give us that money or you’re all mine, darlin’.”

Roderich twisted his face as far away from the other man as he could, which only earned him more hits. This attack went on for a while in Roderich’s mind, and when the man decided he was done with Roderich he pushed him to the ground roughly.

The blonde snapped a picture of him in that painful position before Curly-hair kicked him, more pictures were taken and the men exited the room, leaving Roderich in pain and confused. Roderich could barely process what happened in his mind, and he felt alone gain. Alone and scared.

 

 

-

 

Gilbert and Francis arrived to the small home with many bags and worried expressions. Gilbert placed some of the breakfast bags on the table before heading to the stairs, but he was stopped by Jackson (A/N if you hate Jackson clap your hands! * **_INTENSE CLAPPING *_** ).

“Wait, Gil! Don’t ya wanna see the pictures? He’s been crying like a lil bitch up there for like ten minutes, he can wait a bit more.” _That stupid fucking laugh._

It took every ounce of Gilbert not to pounce of Jackson. He showed off the pictures like he had won something- the others at least had the decency to look away and act business-like. But this piece of shit _liked_ it, and it was angering Gilbert.

The pictures, on the other hand, made him sick. He wanted to cry and puke all at once, wanted to help Roderich.

“We mail them tomorrow,” said Ludwig formally.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes. “I think he needs his breakfast now,” he practically growled before making his way up the room.

What awaited him there was enough to make Gilbert cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update as soon as I can!


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SUPER SHORT SORRY
> 
> I am so so so so so so so sorry for uploading so much later than usual! School just started for me AND I just moved to a new house so I'll upload once a week but the length of the chapter will be depending on work load (High School does not understand the world of fanfic writers).
> 
> As always. I hope you enjoy the chapter :) Things are going to start to change in the next few chaps, ooooooooh  
> I love you guys so mucH! Thanks for the comments... they really are what keeps me going!
> 
> This is actually so OOC but idk howto make them actually seem like themselves in this situation you know????

_Chapter 7_

 

 

Gilbert walked into the room to see a curled-up figure on the mattress, sobs racking his body. He could hear stifled cries, and hesitated before stepping inside and locking the door behind him. “I got you breakfast,” he said cheaply.

“Just kill me now,” a weak voice called back. “I don’t even care if you take me home, look, I just want to- to-“

Gilbert sat on the bed. “I let them do this to you.” He was mostly talking to himself, his voice sounding strange and his eyes staring at the wall. “This is all my fault, Roderich. All my fault, I-“

“ _Don’t call me that any more.”_

“What?”

“When you call me by my full name it’s always bad, it’d help if you go by the other things.”

“Roddy,” Gilbert felt a pain in his chest from seeing someone he loved so much go through so much pain. He laid down in the mattress next to him, letting a hand ghost over his waist. Roderich whimpered a bit from the soreness, but when Gilbert tried to move his hand away Roderich wouldn’t let him.

 

The two people were being so unlike their usual selves- they were both broken now.

 

“I can’t let this happen any more,” Gilbert said. “Once we reach Stockholm, I swear I’ll-“

“Why do you care so much, Gilbert?” the man’s voice was creepily quiet.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve seen you before, Roderich. Before…” Gil sighed. “Before this all happened. I saw your concerts; I tried to take some jobs at the balls that you attended to get to see you. I don’t know, I just was so taken over by the idea of you. Yeah, you were prissy and seemed annoying and always complained but that sorta made it, I don’t know, hotter.” Roderich froze but Gil continued. “When we chose you to kidnap I was nervous. You’d hate me. But you didn’t really know me in the first place, but it didn’t matter. And Roddy, I knew I loved you from the second you refused that McDonald’s bag. You were something different. Something different that I have ruined.”

The other man was silent at first, and with a lot of struggling managed to turn his body around to face Gilbert, who helped him, nervous about the response.

Roderich stared at Gilbert. Just stared. His face was pretty bruised, purple under one eye and pink in the cheek, a bluish-bruise under his jaw. They stared at each other for a while, just looking.

“Love.” Roderich sounded monotone.

“Love, Roderich… Roddy. I know this is all happening to you, and I want to stop it and honestly if you want me to di-“

“No one has ever told me that they loved me before.”

That much was true; Roderich’s parent’s never said it, he had only ever dated two other people, one who wasn’t into saying the three words and one that was more of a friend to him, and he was more of a friend to her. But this puzzled Gilbert because of two things. Roderich wasn’t rejecting him or sending any signs that he hated him (yet?????????) and no one had ever told such an amazing person that they loved him.

It was all pretty crazy, really.

“Much less a captor,” Roderich added sullenly.

Gilbert remained silent.

“So I’m not sure what is real,” the pianist was talking slowly, and his voice sounded more confused than monotone now. “…I’m scared.” The last part was a whisper, and completely unlike the pianist to admit.

In fact, had these two men not been in this situation, they would have not started acting this way.

“I’m sorry,” Gilbert wasn’t sure of what to say. He looked at Roderich’s bruised face and grew more uncomfortable. It was because of _him_ that Roderich was like that. It was all his fault. All his fault. All his fau-

“Do you really think I’ll ever get a chance to go home?”

Gilbert sighed. “Well, the guys- they- they-“ he growled in anger. “They did this to you to convince your mom to pay. All they care about is money, not you-“

“Do _you_ only care about the money?”

Gilbert answered without a second guess. “I would rather work a terrible, low paying-job with a shitty living space than be filthy rich off hurting you.” _But if I go against the mafia we’re both dead._

Roderich seemed to think for a moment before leaning in the Gilbert, tilting his head slightly and shyly going in for a kiss. Gilbert immediately kissed back, happy but still a tad confused. It was a bit different from the last time they did it; Gilbert was sure this time it meant that Roderich liked him too. Roderich lifted up a hand to put behind Gilbert’s head but winced. Gilbert broke off the kiss but came closer to Roderich. Close enough to feel his heart I sync with his, their eyes meeting and their noses together.

“We’ll be in Stockholm soon,” Gilbert stated. “And I swear to God, if your mom doesn’t pay the money I’ll find a way to.”

 

 

-

 

 

**_ The Morning Teller  _ ** _28 December, 2015_

**After Gang Sends Mother Photos of Beaten-up Son, More are Stressed Over the Treatment of a Kidnapped Pianist. Authorities Suspect They Might Be Hiding in Germany**

_by Kelly Bersey_

If you haven’t heard about the missing pianist by now, you must be living under a rock. Authorities have crossed borders to find Roderich Edelstein, 23, to bring him home to his mother, Annelise Edelstein, but so far the gang ‘Abandoned Death’ has only left clues leading the police nowhere. Said gang claims they will return the young man if they are given money, but Ms. Edelstein has refused. That is, up until she received pictures of her son beaten down on the floor threatening her to give the money in her mail last week.

Now she has not spoken to anyone but authorities.

 

Will she bring the money, or will her son have to find another way out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make dolphin noises if Kelly Bersey is bae (to those of you that pay attention)


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short too! I actually know EXACTLY how everything will turn out. See you next week (or maybe earlier depending on work)

_Chapter 8_

 

By the time they made it to Herrljunga, Sweden, Roderich was losing hope. They had spent most of the last few days in ports and boats, successfully making their way past borders in “fishing” boats and “tourist” boats that were all taken care of by Gilbert’s boss. Gilbert didn’t hesitate to tell him where they were, but Roderich still felt disoriented. How was it possible that at the beginning of the month he had been in Switzerland, composing music under his mother’s watchful eye? Roderich didn’t know what the date was today, but he knew New Year’s was nearing. The tension he felt in the ships as the men passed **_The Morning Teller_** around was thick and awful. He knew that his mother had refused to give the money. He just _knew_ it.

Things between him and Gilbert were as awkward as ever. The man had grown quieter, more thoughtful. Most of the things that came out of his mouth were promises or freedom, _soon, soon, soon, I promise_ and mentions of how “I need to be to you what Jack was to Rose.”

Roderich always nodded and looked away, not so sure. He was completely aware of the situation he was in, and he didn’t think his captor helping him be _free_ was part of the story.

 

Gilbert, on the other hand, was slowly making plans. When they made it to Hallsberg, the night before they reached Stockholm, he would help Roderich escape. God knows what it meant for him, but he would help the man escape. He hadn’t told Francis, Antonio, or even Roderich himself. But he knew that the next day Roderich would be safe, or at least close to it.

 

“Okay, so we’re a few days from Stockholm and the mom isn’t near coughing up the money. What do we do?”

Gilbert shook away his thoughts and paid attention to the conversation being held before him.

“Well, we could do what we did before. It could shake her up a bit more.”

“No!” The Albino interrupted quickly. When he felt every single pair of eyes on him, he thought of something to say. “That obviously didn’t work out. We don’t want to hurt him more than we have to.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jack chuckled, getting a few others to snicker.

“No, no, Gilbert’s right,” Abel shushed the men. “That didn’t work out at all.”

“So what do we do?” Antonio asked.

“We’ll just have to cause a bit of a scene somewhere,” Abel thought.

 

-

 

 ** _The Morning Teller_** _28 December 2015_

 

**Vash Zwingli and Alfred Jones Say They Have a Lead on Pianist Case**

_Kelly Bersey_

Two men, one claiming to be a hero and another one claiming to be a childhood friend, say that they have evidence that could lead police to the missing pianist, Roderich Edelstein. Authorities haven’t had any leads in a while, and they are now following the pair to Denmark.

“It’s absurd,” a policewoman who chooses to remain anonymous tells us. “We don’t know these men. They’re leading us across the continent, and we don’t even know how _Denmark_ has to do with anything. These men could be messing around with us, keeping us away from the important things.”

What do you think of this? We’d love to hear your opinion! Contact us at [www.themorningteller.org](http://www.themorningteller.org)

 

-

 

 _“Roderich,”_ Gilbert tapped the man carefully, whispering. He knew the other men were asleep and wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it didn’t matter. If he was caught, there was no doubt he would die. “ _Roderich, we’re leaving._ ”

Roderich blinked a bit before sighing. “Where to now? Boat or van?”

“No, Roderich. I’m getting you out of here. But you need to trust me, be quiet, and be _quick,_ got it? Good. Now hurry up, we need to leave _now_!”

Roderich was fully awake now, and sat up quickly. “Gilbert, what are you talking about?”

“I’m getting you out of here?”

“Gilbert, they’ll find me, I don’t know my way around the city!”

“I do. So I’m coming with you.”

“What? If they catch you, you’ll die you idiot!”

“And if you’re here any longer, _you’ll_ die.”

“I can’t let you die-“

“I won’t die if we don’t get caught. And the only way _that_ will happen is if you hurry up!”

Roderich sighed and thought for a bit before following Gilbert.

They made it out of the house quickly, walking quietly as to not alert the men that were awake. Gilbert had a bag of food and money, lots of it, and as soon as they made it out of the house they ran. Roderich, who wasn’t athletic, was not prepared for this. But the fear of getting caught brought him forward. As soon as Gilbert decided they were far away enough, he slowed down enough for the brunette to catch his breath.

“Okay, here’s the plan:” Gilbert spoke after a while of heavy breathing. “Stockholm.”

“Isn’t that where _they’re_ going?”

“Not without you, they aren’t.”

“How do I know _you_ wont take me to… to wherever they want to take me?”

Gilbert stopped and turned around, a frown taking over his facial features. “I just risked my life to get you out of there and you think I’ll bring you back in?”

“No, sorry. I’m tired.”

Gilbert smiled. “Well, princess, I’ve got just the plan for you.”

 

They made their way to a motel, courtesy of Gilbert. According to him, it was safe for the night. Roderich didn’t know if he could agree, but he was exhausted.

He plopped down on the bed and fell asleep shortly after, barely registering the fact that he was _free._ Gilbert smiled, laying next to the man. Now he could truly be the hero he deserved.

 

 


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #doingthisinsteadofmysciencehw
> 
> WARNING: PAST FRUK

_Chapter 9_

 

 

They decided to take the train this time.

 

Roderich had been told to cover his face. Gilbert had wanted to give the man to the police, to take him home. But Roderichknew that would mean one thing for Gilbert: death. If Gilbert also went to the police, he would be arrested and that would probably lead the authorities to his brother. The mafia would find a way to get him, of course they would! And Roderich would never be able to live with the thought that Gilbert had died, or was maybe even tortured.

He didn’t really know exactly what they were now. They had shared a few kisses, cuddled, even. And Gilbert was sacrificing both his and his brother’s lives for the pianist.

Why was he even thinking of that? He had just escaped- or hoped he had escaped- the mafia. He and Gilbert had to slip out _super_ stealthily, and at an exact time. He had never felt so stressed in his life, and it wasn’t because of him being abducted, but because of the stupid albino.

The whole situation was just so, so, _so_ stupid to him.

Gilbert, on the other hand, never took his mind off the mafia. What if they caught him?

The two most important people that were always on his head were Roderich and his brother. Next were Francis and Antonio, but the albino was sure they could care for themselves. Ludwig probably could, too, but maybe it was just a brother thing. And then there was _Roderich._ They spent most of their time walking, head down and covered as much as it could be without being weird, which was an _extremely_ slow way to travel. Gilbert had never noticed Roderich had walked at such a leisurely pace before. But then, that was all for obvious reasons.

Not a second passed when the two weren’t looking over their shoulder. It wasn’t the ideal way to live (for now), but it was the best until the found something safe- for both of them- to do.

 

The date was December 30, 2015. The New Year was _*this*_ close, and Gilbert didn’t like it one bit. Almost in Stockholm.

 

“Roderich?” Gilbert broke the silence.

“Yes?”

“We’re going to use a car.”

“What?”

“We’ve been walking for _ever_ and you look like you’re dying.”

  
Gilbert soon got them a car while Roderich went to the rest room. _How_ Gilbert got the car, Roderich didn’t ask, but he did have things in mind. “What now?” He asked as he plopped down in a comfortable seat.

“Stockholm.”

 

-

 

Vash _knew_ they had to be there. He _knew_ it.

He told himself he hated the brunette all the time. He had saved him from bullies countless times and now he was _kidnapped? Again?_ Except that _this_ time it was taking longer than usual to find him. And though he told himself he _despised_ the Austrian, he was compelled to go and find him.

And then there was the night by the pier, when he saw someone that looked a little too much like the pianist.

A lot had happened since then; the police tried to find him, but they weren’t listening. They never seemed to. He _knew_ they had gone to Stockholm. He had seen the map, he had heard them. But only one officer believed him.

And, in Vash’s opinion, he was the biggest idiot in this side of the planet. But he was the only one that had taken him seriously in that office, and though he was _annoying, loud,_ and seemed _completely careless_ at times, he did know how to do his job.

And now Vash Zwingli and Alfred F. Jones were heading to Stockholm.

 

Vash had parked his car just outside a small bar. He needed the drink- he had barely slept for _three days._ Roderich, Roderich, Roderich- _always_ on his mind. And what could he do about it?

Vash was never a heavy drinker, but maybe a glass or two could help.

“Dude, look at that guy over there! He looks totally _wasted!”_ Alfred “whispered”, tilting his head towards a man who rested his head on his hands.

“I-I can hear you, you know!” The man, who had a heavy British accent, looked up, head moving around as though the swift motion made him dizzy. _His eyebrows are huge!_ Vash noticed, eyes widening. _It looks okay on_ him, _but seriously._

He shook his head and turned his head back to Alfred. “Focus, American.”

“Chill, man. We wont be able to find your little boyfriend if we don’t relax for a bit.”

Vash opened his mouth to object, but then Alfred went over and sat down next to the Brit. “Hey, you’ve heard about the missing Austrian pianist case? In Switzerland?”

“Missing Austrian from Switzerland?” the sentence was long and filled with irregular ups and downs. “An Austrian from Switzerland? So, which is he?”

Alfred frowned. “Have you seen any brunettes with these distinct violet eyes?”

The British man cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “No, but I did see someone with red eyes all but a few minutes ago. He got a beer but left early, said he had someone to take care of outside.”

“Did he say _who?_ ”

“No,” he then paused to think more. “Well, maybe, but I wasn’t listening. Another guy came in but I didn’t really-lly look at ‘im, tellin’ ‘im something like ‘Gilbert, let’s go’ an’ he’s all like ‘hold on, Roddy’ an’ he leaves.” The man’s accent got all weird, and soon he turned away and seemed to be paying close attention to a portrait on the wall. “I used to know a guy that looked like that. Francis. B-but he had to go. Said it would help us, and joined the mafia, that frog. Said, ‘Arthur, it’s for us’. What does that even mean?”

“Rod? Could that be Roderich?” Alfred turned around to face Vash.

“I don’t think Roderich would be all buddy-buddy with his captors. Plus, this guy said the man had _red_ eyes. Can we really trust him?”

“They were red!” The man, Arthur, turned back to the police officer. “They were red as much as yours were blue, believe me! Believe me! Why doesn’t anyone ever believe me, first with my flying mint bunny and now with this...”

“Flying mint bunny? Alfred, this guy is too drunk to help. Let’s get a drink and go.”

“So Francis joined the mafia?” Alfred was ignoring Vash completely.

“Yeah, yeah. Soon there’s these guys like ‘Arthur, you have trouble, tell us and we’ll deal with it.’ It wasn’t the same, you know? He made friends there, think he likes ‘em more than me.”

“Do you still keep in touch with him?”

“He left me last month because he said it was too dangerous for me.”

“Can you tell me anything more about him? Any kidnappings?”

“He never told me anything!” Arthur covered his face with his hands once again, crying.  
“Thanks for your help,” Alfred sighed, patting his back. “Don’t let that bring you down, man. You’ll find someone.”

He then ordered two beers and the men left, ready to go in the car and continue the search. But when they looked outside, it wasn’t there.

“What the- dude, what the fuck?!”

“Where is it!?”

“I swear to god, if some little shit took this just for the laughs I’ll-“

“Isn’t that it?” Vash pointed to something about a hundred meters away (almost 330 feet).

The two men took off, yelling and everything. The car stopped, much to their surprise. A man, who was wearing sunglasses, opened the door slightly. “Dude, I don’t want to make a scene here-“

“What the _fuck_ are you doing with my car? I’m a cop, you know!”

“Look, this is sorta an emergency, now we’ll just get out if you want-“ the man took his sunglasses off, revealing shockingly _red_ eyes.

Vash was about to comment, but then he saw the man next to the one with red eyes.

 

“Roderich? Is that you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Vash kinda likes Rod
> 
> VASH NO
> 
> AAAND SEE YOU NEXT WEEK GUYS :)


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story keeps my life together. School is stressing me out, I don't even know what I'm doing with my life, but at least I know what is going on in this story and even though I'm super busy I'll always update once a week because this just makes me happy and I really hope you like it as much as I do.

_Chapter 10_

 

 

“Roderich? Is that you?”

 

The world seemed to stop turning, and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The red-eyed man shut the car door instantly, but Vash got a glimpse of Roderich’s face- he had some bruises here and there, and his eyes were wide. His mouth seemed to be opening to ask _“Vash?”_ but before he knew it the car was long gone.

He stood by the street for a few seconds before realizing what just happened. “A-Alfred! That was him, that was him!”   
Alfred looked at him for a second as if to say _I know,_ and soon they were running after them. “Kidnapper! That car has Roderich Edelstein! A man in there captured him! That red-eyed man!”

People around stared for a bit, some taking action. The place was soon flooded with phone calls and loud chattering, and police sirens could be heard in the distance. Vash didn’t know _what_ he felt. He just wanted the Austrian home safely again.

 

Gilbert, on the other hand, knew _exactly_ what he felt. Fear, adrenaline, and anger at him self. Roderich? He felt nostalgia, and fear as well, for Gilbert. If they were caught, what could happen? This was all happening too quickly.

The whole thing felt like a millisecond and a year at the same time. “Get out of the car,” Gilbert stopped suddenly, opening the door for Roderich.

“What? You’re _leaving_ me?”

“No,” Gil opened his own door. “ _Run._ ” And he got out, bolting towards the nearest building. Roderich blinked and followed him. It was hard; the man was moving from side to side, up the stairs, all over the place.

They soon made it to a place with a big star. Gilbert knocked so hard he could have made the door fall.

“Hey! Hey, Mathias! Open the damn door already!”

A tall man with a very strange hair cut opened the door, grinning widely. “Gillll! It’s been _forever,_ man! I-“

Gilbert grabbed Roderich’s hand, pushing past who Roderich assumed was _Mathias_.

“Ohhhhh. Police?” Mathias suddenly went from being a cute little cinnamon roll to badass. His smile was gone and he closed the door quickly, locking it. “Lukas! It’s that time again.”

Another man popped his head out of his room. “Sheesh, what do you guys even get into?”

“Get Lukas, Emil.”

“He’s out.”

“ _Damn it._ Okay, guys just go over there with Emil. Don’t make any noise, okay? If the police decides to come here who knows-“

Someone knocked on the door right that second.

Emil beckoned for the two men to follow him into the room he had come out of. Roderich tried to make himself as tiny as possible while trying to listen to the conversation being held outside.

“…. Said she saw two people come in.”

“Who, Sally? Well, she’s been drinking for a bit, she could be seeing things. Who knows with Sally.”

“May we have a look inside?”

Another voice was heard. “Sorry, but I’m afraid that can’t happen. We’re private people, you see, we don’t want you hurting our stuff.” This man had a slightly different accent.

“We wont damage-“

“Unless you have the legal documents, no, I’m afraid not.”

Roderich turned to see Emil on his laptop. He cocked his head to one side.

“Deleting security tapes,” was whispered back to him.

Roderich wasn’t sure _how_ someone could do that via laptop, but no matter. He was in _danger_ here. And if Gilbert was caught he was as good as dead.

 

 

Vash made his way to a tall grey building despite an American protest behind him. “I can’t believe they let him go! Roderich is in there, I know it!”

“You can’t go back there, man. Or else _we’ll_ be arrested.”

“Unless we _find_ him.”

“And if he isn’t there? Huh? Plus, I don’t think Mathias would keep them sheltered. Mat and I? We’re tight.”

Vash sighed. “I saw him. You did too, right? And that man with the red eyes. I-what could he have done to him?”

“He looked pretty calm to me. Roderich, I mean.”

“Are you saying he’s _okay_ with this? That that man is _not_ a terrible kidnapper?”

“I’m not saying anything.” Alfred took his phone out. “Are you aware of Stockholm Syndrome?”

“What?”

“Well, close to here, in Stockholm, there was a bank robbery. Several people were held hostage for like five days. The victims became emotionally attached to their captors, and even defended them.”

“What does that have to do with Roderich?”

“The same thing could be happening to him. Or…”

“Or what?”

“Or maybe it is the captor. Lima syndrome.”

Vash was growing annoyed. “What does this have to do with _anything?_ ”

“Lima Syndrome was named after this thing that happened a while ago. There was an abduction at the Japanese embassy in Lima, Peru, and after a few hours the captors released most of the hostage, even the most important ones, because they developed sympathy. So Lima _Syndrome_ is when abductors get sympathy for their victims, and it can happen in many situations and for many reasons-“

“You’re saying they have these things?”

“A weird mix of the two thrown in there, maybe. Roderich wasn’t calling for help, he didn’t look _too_ bad or uncomfortable. Did you notice how he was sitting back, almost like he was hanging out with a friend?”

“I also saw his battered face!”

Alfred sighed, shaking his head. “We don’t know how that happened. Maybe they’re running away from the mafia, and he got it when he was still under their power. Maybe red-eyes is trying to help, but he’s scared of getting brought in by the police and being hurt. He’s scared for them both. He thinks the safest thing to do is for them to go out themselves.”

Vash didn’t know Alfred could get like this, so intellectual. But frankly, he didn’t think any of that was real. “That’s stupid. Roderich is hurt and needs our help. And if your little friends wont help us, I know who will.”

“Vash, this is very much possible and-“

“ _Elizabeta? Yeah, I think I found Roderich._ ”

 

 

Roderich was still hidden in the same place, head tucked in between his knees.

Gilbert was right next to him, and he could feel his eyes running over him.

“What happens if they find us?”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“I- where are we even going to go, huh? It’s almost New Year’s, they’re all looking for us, I just-“

“We’ll be fine, Roddy.” Gilbert placed a kiss on top of Roderich’s head. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

Roderich wasn’t really sure how to feel about all this.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!
> 
> What do you guys think about what is happening?


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS, SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!!!! I'VE BEEN UNDER A LOT OF STRESS RECENTLY BUT HERE
> 
>  
> 
> I LOVE YOU GUYS

_Chapter 11_

 

 

Roderich knew the apartment wasn’t safe at all. He knew sooner rather than later, he would be found and his mother would find a way to hurt Gilbert. 

Mathias did not seem to have a completely clean slate with the law, and this made Roderich worry even more. He was being protected by _criminals_. He was in the home of a _criminal_.

And the one man he trusted was a _criminal_. Gilbert had probably stolen, killed.

 

They were not only criminals, but he was a victim.

 

He was not showering, feeling the warm water pour down on him. He closed his eyes, leaning back. He didn’t know what he was feeling; nostalgia? Fear? Anticipation? All, neither?

He massaged his scalp expertly, letting the nice scent fill him. He hadn’t showered in a long, _long_ time. It was long overdue, this privacy, this cleansing.

All he could think about was Gilbert. Surprise, surprise.

 

The man sacrificed himself and potentially his brother to save _him_. If Gilbert was caught by the mafia he would surely die. But he gave that all up for _Roderich?_ He wasn’t sure anyone had ever done that for him.

Someone knocked on the door, startling Roderich. “Yes?” he called out. The answer was muffled, and Roderich groaned. He turned the water down. “Yes?” He asked, louder, opening the curtain slightly to stick his head out.

Instead of an answer, the door opened. Roderich’s violet eyes widened and he reached for a towel, trying to cover himself up. Gilbert put a finger to his mouth, _shhhh._ Roderich, who’s hair still had shampoo, nodded. He knew not to refuse at times like this now. Gilbert stepped inside the shower, ignoring the fact it was wet. “Get down,” he whispered.

Roderich nodded, sitting next to him. Gilbert brought him close, his arm wrapping around the slightly smaller man. It was painfully awkward- Roderich’s wet, shampooed hair against Gilbert’s dry head; his towel against Gil’s jeans and old tee shirt. But he didn’t comment on it, knowing how that if someone that wasn’t supposed to hear us stumbled close to the bathroom, we were dead.

 

Roderich knew it was her the second he heard her voice.  

 

Elizabeta was there, he  _knew_ it. His eyes widened. Had Vash…?

 

The brunet sat up lightly, earning a strange look from the man next to him.

 

 _“Sir. I need your help, please! A very close friend- someone that I care_ a lot _about has been kidnapped! PLEASE! If you have any idea where he or the-those criminals are_ please _tell me!”_

_“Of course, of course. I have no idea what pain you must be going through, and my prayers are with you. But I haven’t seen-“_

_“My friend says he saw some people go in yesterday.”_

_“A lot of people come in and out each day.”_

_“Sir, if you know something-“_

_“I assure you I will contact the police. Again, my thoughts are with you. I wish you luck, good d-“_

_“_ No! _I need to know. I know you know something-“’_

Roderich trembled. He knew her! It was the first time he had heard her voice in what, a month?!  SHe She was there, just meters away from him, the last bit of family she had left. Gilbert immediately knew why he was acting this way. _She was looking for him_. He pulled Roderich closer.

 

_“Please, can I just check? To be sure, please!”_

 

_“Ma’am, I’m sorry but I-“_

Roderich, with tears running down his face, didn’t know what to do. Was this the last chance he would get to see her? Was it the last time he would ever get to see any of them? He stopped thinking. Stopped thinking about Gilbert, how much he was risking both of their lives. He just shot up, leaving the other man dumbfounded. It took him a second to get up after him, “Roderich!” he whispered as loud as he could without alerting anyone else. But Roderich, towel and all, was running out. “L-Liz?!”

And there he saw her, standing with a worried look on her eyes.

“Elizabeta?”

“Roderich!” her eyes widened. Without second thought she embraced him. “Roderich, oh my god! I-I- wait!” she seemed to remember just _where_ she was. Gilbert bolted into the room, red eyes looking everywhere.

“Hey, please, we can explain, just-“

“ _Man with red eyes and silver hair,”_ Elizabeta whispered to herself. Quickly snapping out of it, she brought Roderich closer and yelled. “ _ALFRED! FOUND HIM! ALFRED, C’MON!”_

Roderich seemed to realize what he had done. “Liz- I- Liz! No, I-“

Elizabeta didn’t listen just yelled. A police officer came in, surprised, with a raised gun, and close after him came Vash.

“Roderich!” Vash shouted, looking at the man. “Roderich, what the actual fuck?!”

“I can explain, please don’t call anyone else just _calm down!_ ” Gilbert put his hands in front of him, breathing heavily.

“Shut up!” Alfred, the policeman, pointed his gun at him, then at Mathias. “Shut up! Help is coming in a minute and you two are in _big trouble! Got it?_ ”

“No!” Roderich broke free of Elizabeta’s grasp, jumping in front of the gunman. “He hasn’t done anything, please let us explain!”

Alfred wasn’t shocked. At all. “ _I knew it.”_ He sighed and shook his head. “ _Vash!_ I fucking told you!”

Roderich was, in fact, confused, but did not show it. He stayed where he was, in front of Gilbert, making sure the man who had protected him this whole time was safe.

 

Suddenly, Emil came entered the room, pointing a small handgun directly at the police officer. A short blonde man came in after him, a much louder weapon in his arms, and pointed it at everyone.

“Now,” the short man said in a threatening way that did not suit his cute features. “You’re gonna go and tell your little friends that nothing is going on and you’re gonna put that gun down and sit right there or Imma blow all your faces out. Mathias, c’mere!”

Mathias stepped behind the man. “Right when we need ya, Finny.”

‘Finny’ and Emil pointed their weapons at everyone. Gilbert, Roderich, Elizabeta, Vash, and Alfred. “Now this family comes first. And if any of you try and mess with that I swear I’ll _kill you._ Now go, American! What did I tell you to do?!”

 

Alfred looked confused. He was obviously a rookie. “I-what?”

“Tell ‘em to leave. And don’t try all that code shit, my bud here knows ‘em all.”

 

The policeman slowly put his gun down, taking a small communication device out. After he told the others it was a false alarm, he put it down again and slowly made his way to the couch, sitting down.

“Follow him, now.”

Vash, Liz, Gil and Roddy slowly made their way to the couch, knowing any wrong move could cause them to die.

 

“Okay, motherfuckers. Story time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOPE TO SEE YOU NEXT WEEK. MAYBEEEE TOMORROW, BUT I DONT THINK SO. I'M REALLY BUSY GUYS.


End file.
